


Proximity to Power

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Family Feels, Gen, Good Older Sibling Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Jason Todd Has Issues, Non-Consensual Touching, Panic Attacks, Sexual Harassment, Whumptober 2020, jason is uncomfortable at parties bc of all the drunk rich people, poor kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27094381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: Dick could almost enjoy himself if he didn’t have to endure the constant grabby hands from drunk aristocrats who are too used to getting what they want. Dick can’t get a second alone without someone grabbing his ass or pinning him with a conversation, telling him how much he’s grown up, which everyone knows is code for “you’re finally legal now.”He feels bad for Jason, who has only been Bruce’s son for a few months now. This is his first upper-class party. Dick can already imagine how he’s being treated like a shiny new toy, fawned over and getting his cheeks pinched by elderly ladies who’ve doused themselves in musty perfume and the finest jewelry they own.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Whumptober 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948297
Comments: 9
Kudos: 455





	Proximity to Power

**Author's Note:**

> Whump Day 18: "Panic Attacks"
> 
> Title is from "A Winter's Ball" from Hamilton.
> 
> (This fella isn't as edited as I would like it to be for time reasons, so please excuse any typos which I plan to fix in the morning.)

It’s been a while since the last time Dick attended a Wayne gala. He hasn’t missed the wealthy life, contrary to what one might expect. Dick will always be a circus boy at heart, but there’s no denying that he grew up just as much of a rich kid as any other young adult with a massive inheritance of thirty million dollars to their name.  
  
Galas, Dick has found over the years, are merely an excuse for Gotham’s socialites and high-class preps to revel in complimentary booze and flaunt their wealth with extravagant donations to the cause they don’t care about. Then again, that’s the point of these events, isn’t it?   
  
Dick could almost enjoy himself if he didn’t have to endure the constant grabby hands from drunk aristocrats who are too used to getting what they want. Dick can’t get a second alone without someone grabbing his ass or pinning him with a conversation, telling him how much he’s grown up, which everyone knows is code for “you’re finally legal now.”   
  
He feels bad for Jason, who has only been Bruce’s son for a few months now. This is his first upper-class party. Dick can already imagine how he’s being treated like a shiny new toy, fawned over and getting his cheeks pinched by elderly ladies who’ve doused themselves in musty perfume and the finest jewelry they own.   
  
Speaking of, where is the little squirt? Dick has learned by now that it always pays to have a buddy at these things. He used to bring Wally or Babs, but wound up feeling guilty every time they showed up in the Gazette’s gossip section the next day.   
  
Journalists just _love_ picking apart Dick Grayson’s relationships, speculating about his theorized redhead kink and tallying up romantic conquests he didn’t even know he had. Apparently he dated Bruce’s cousin Kate last winter even though she’s thirty years old, a huge lesbian, and Dick’s adoptive cousin once removed. What a scandal.   
  
Dick spots Bruce across the room surrounded by a gaggle of old ladies and goes over, swiping a fresh glass of champagne off a passing tray.   
  
“Ah, here he is,” Bruce says when Dick comes into earshot. Bruce is wearing a tux nearly identical to Dick’s, except that Bruce looks like he was born in one. Dick always gets the feeling that he looks like a child playing dress-up. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet my son, Dick.”   
  
Bruce’s smile says “playboy,” but his eyes scream “help.” Dick can’t imagine how long he’s spent fending off the aristocratic birds who somehow always manage to track down the most eligible Wayne in the place and treat him the same way feral cats treat a dead seagull.   
  
Dick flashes his own grin. “Sorry, but I’m just passing through. Trying to find Jay. Any idea where I should look?”   
  
“I think I saw him heading for the bathroom a few minutes ago,” Bruce says. “Why don’t you stay and chat?” _Please,_ his eyes beg. _Don’t leave me alone with the wolves._ Hell no.   
  
“I’d love to, but you know how it is. Brothers stick together and all that. It was a pleasure, ladies.” As Dick passes, he leans in close to Bruce’s ear and whispers, “This is payback for confiscating my Wii U two years ago.” He walks away, laughing.   
  
Next mission: find Jason and sneak out to play a few rounds of basketball outside. That’s the only redeemable part of Bruce hosting parties at the manor. At least Dick can duck out at will, avoid the flocks entirely. He dodges businessmen and tittering wives, avoiding eye contact. People at these things tend to take eye contact as an invitation.   
  
Before he even makes it to the hallway the bathroom is in, Dick passes a closet and stops in his tracks. The door is cracked open—not enough to be noticeable, but enough to get Dick’s attention. Bruce makes it a general rule to ensure that every door in the manor is locked up tight during these events to protect their belongings from sticky fingers, as well as to keep their identities under wraps. Even closets like this one are supposed to be closed and locked.   
  
Dick nudges the door open and finds Jason sitting in a ball on the floor, his arms wrapped tight around his knees. He’s shaking, his breaths quick and uneven like he’s straining to stay above water.   
  
“Jay?”   
  
Jason’s head snaps up, his eyes wide and terrified.   
  
“It’s just me,” Dick assures him. He kneels down, sets his champagne on the floor and reaches out to touch Jason’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”   
  
Jason’s face hardens in an instant. He smacks Dick’s hand away so fast it catches Dick by surprise. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He’s still shaking despite the sudden anger, his breaths coming out more like gasps. Dick has seen this before; it’s the only reason he doesn’t call for Alfred to help.   
  
“Okay.” Dick keeps his hands to himself, moves back to give the kid space. “No touching.”   
  
Jason buries his face in his knees, shuddering. “I don’t—I don’t know what’s—”   
  
“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He waits until Jason lifts his head, shows his watery blue eyes. Dick has never seen the kid so shaken. Jason has been tough from the day Dick met him, seemingly untouchable. “It’s okay, Jay. You’re having a panic attack. Take deep breaths, alright?”   
  
He inhales deeply to demonstrate, waits until Jason catches on. It takes a few minutes, a few minutes in which Dick wishes he could do something—reach out, hold his hand, hug him the way Bruce used to when Dick was a kid. But whatever it is that has Jason so shaken, Dick knows that breaking his promise would only make it worse.   
  
Eventually, the shivering lessens. Jason seems to catch his breath.   
  
Dick doesn’t move. “Can I touch you?”   
  
Jason shakes his head.   
  
“Okay, that’s fine. I won’t. Are you feeling better?”   
  
This time Jason nods, and Dick can’t imagine how the kid must be feeling right now, having had a panic attack in front of his predecessor at a _party_ of all things. But Dick doesn’t judge him. He knows too well than to judge him.   
  
“I used to get them too, you know,” Dick says. “Pretty often, actually. There’s nothing wrong with having a panic attack.” Jason says nothing. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”   
  
“Nothing.”   
  
“You sure?”   
  
Jason glares over the knobs of his knees. “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me. I’m _fine.”_   
  
“You know there’s nothing wrong with needing someone to lean on, right?” Jason rolls his eyes. “There isn’t. You and I are brothers now, remember? That means I’m here for you, whether you like it or not. And I know neither of us is used to that, but I’m willing to try.”   
  
Jason goes quiet, chews on his cheek. He hasn’t lost the tension in his body, and Dick has a feeling he would have bolted already if he weren’t so shaky. “It’s...it’s just a lot, okay? That’s all. I’m still getting used to it.”   
  
“To what?”   
  
“This. Parties. Rich people flocking to me like I’m a fucking clearance sale on pearl necklaces and caviar.”   
  
Ah. That makes sense. Dick can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for Jason to go from a life living in alleys to one attending fancy parties and witnessing the lavish lifestyles of people who couldn’t care less about the urchins on Gotham’s streets. Of course the kid is disturbed being here.   
  
Then there’s the other matter. In the short time Dick has known him, he’s noticed how Jason struggles with being touched. He’s fine with Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, but one time a reporter got too close and Jason would have given the guy a black eye if Bruce hadn’t pulled him away at the right moment.   
  
Dick hasn’t asked why Jason is so edgy around the uptown Gotham crowd. Dick has seen Jason get chummy with people he knew from Crime Alley and plenty of fellow heroes, but something about the higher class puts him on high alert. Dick has his own theories that he doesn’t dare voice even to himself, theories about how exactly Jason paid for food and warmth during his time on the streets. Why his first sexual assault case as Robin ended in him pummeling the offender to a bloody pulp, nearly unrecognizable by the time Jason was finished with him.   
  
“I get it,” Dick says. “I do. It’s why I try to avoid these things whenever I can. Too many people who feel too entitled to whatever’s in front of them.”   
  
“I don’t know how you and Bruce do it.”   
  
Dick shrugs. “Usually by ducking out halfway through and going on patrol instead. Or sometimes Bruce used to take me out to the backyard and we’d throw a football around until all of the guests left.”   
  
“Bruce lets you do that?”   
  
“Why not? It’s his house, right? I think it’s only fair that the host gets to ditch his own party.” Dick stands, brushing the dust off his knees and picking up his abandoned champagne. “Come on. We can play video games in my room if you don’t want to cut through the ballroom again.”   
  
He holds out his hand to help Jason up, but Jason doesn’t take it. That’s okay. Baby steps. Jason stands, grabbing Dick’s champagne and downing the remaining dregs. “You still got Mario Kart?”   
  
Dick chuckles. “I’ll even let you have the good controller.”   
  
“Then you’ve got a deal.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
